BioShock: Breach Birth
by Darkendmind
Summary: Set directly after BioShock 2's ending, Delta falls back to Rapture and gets trapped once again. this time, however, something has been awakened after more than a decade, it is not pleased...
1. Chapter 1: Rise and Fall

**Hello everyone. I'd like to remind you now that BioShock, and all of it's glorious ideas, concepts, art, etc. DO NOT belong to me. never will most likely. Also, the following events take place after the GOOD ending 9I always strive to get good endings in games) and as such you should remember that all the NPC's were spared and such.**

**This is also my first FF, so any reviews for helping improve it would be most appreciated!**

* * *

The cool waters quietly lapped at the side of the boat, creating a constant rhythm that Eleanor, much like all the little sisters that had followed her up to the surface, adjusted to quite quickly. The sun gleamed across the surface of the water, welcoming a new day; and if Eleanor had her way, a new era. Slowly rising, she let the wind quietly caress her hair. She slowly opened her eyes and began to smile. This was the surface, this vast, open, and free world was all hers to enjoy.

Eleanor turned to her new friends, all the little girls who now surrounded her, all gently tugging at her suit. She sat back down and hugged two of the children. The rest laid their heads on their Big Sisters body. Eleanor laughed, causing a domino effect towards the rest of the children. They were free. Free of Rapture, free of terror.

Free of Mother.

No, Eleanor thought, Mother was still with them, hiding in the back of their pod, which served as their only home. Lamb had done many things, none of which were remotely forgivable, but that was what made her Father an excellent man. He not only forgave, he forgot. If they could teach mother to think like that, then maybe they had hope to restore her to a human. Just maybe-

"What have you DONE?" cried out a voice, shrill and void of any empathy.

The sisters turned to see their once captor standing in the hatches frame, twenty feet from their spot on the deck. Eleanor stood up and pushed the sisters behind her slight frame. Her mother, Sophia, was drenched in briny water from head to toe, even having to wrench her hair out before standing up in her usual manner.

"Well. This is fixable. We can salvage the situation. Eleanor, round the little ones up into here. We'll burn that…that,' She pointed to Delta with a sickening look in her eyes as she tried to keep composure, "that MONSTROSITY when we renter "_Fontaine Futuristics_". Come along now, Mother has important business to attend to." Sophia reentered the diving pod and input the correct sequence that would guide them home once more.

"No" Eleanor stated.

Sophia stopped her number crunching and walked back to the doorway. She lower her glasses and gazed at her Daughter. "What did you say to me?"

'No, we will not- shall not- let you take us back to that hellhole. Father died so that these children and I could have a future of our choosing."

Sophia strained to remain calm. That one simple 'No' had confirmed her fears; her experiment had failed, and now Eleanor had become truly self aware, even cursed with the dreaded ability to desire.

Eleanor turned her back to Sophia. They would talk later, but first she wanted to enjoy the surfaces beauty one last time before leaving. Before she could truly take it in, however, she felt a small tingle at the back of her mind, as if something wanted to talk to her. Then she felt…darkness. It was already too late to stop what was happening behind her…

"I am so sorry Eleanor, this was my fault, I should have kept you in a tighter lock-down…Now, we must start over again…this time I shall succeed…" Sophia mumbled, finally losing her last bit of sanity. She had taken Delta's life, but he had done far worse. He left her alive and with the ruins of her life's work. She looked around the pod for a weapon, preferably something using projectiles. Finding a gun hidden in one of the many compartments that covered the area, she opened the barrel and examined it's contents. Six bullets. Excellent, she could take some of the girls back and start over again. Maybe one of them would be the perfect Utopian after all.

She breathed out and took a step out of the pod. She tried to aim down the small sights, but was unable to through her brined glasses, etched with the salt from the underwater city. She sighed and took them off. Now she would have to be closer to Eleanor to get a good shot off. She took a few steps and slowly smiled. Everything would be better this way she told herself. Before she could take another step and get in range, she felt a tug at her feet.

She looked down at the hand that now grabbed her ankle. She didn't needs to see the owner of the heavily armored leather glove to know who it belonged to. After everything that had happened, Delta was alive; Maybe just faintly, but alive nonetheless. She tried to shake him off without any commotion, as not to alert Eleanor or any of the little girls of her presence, but his grip actually tightened.

She pointed the barrel towards him and attempted to get him to let go. Delta loosened his grip for a second, as if thinking about his position, then his view port turned a bright red before crushing the doctor's ankle. He slowly moved his other hand to the ledge of the pod, grasping the side. Sophia assumed that he wished to stand, but the she realized he was shifting _towards _the ledge, not away.

Sophia screamed as Delta roared. Eleanor turned around to see her Father holding onto to her mother's ankle. She stood for a moment, stunned by what was occurring, before realizing that the darkness in her mind was her Fathers last will. She let their minds connect through the ADAM within her veins, and she imagined a cold, dark, descent.

_He was going to drag Sophia down into the water, and he was the anchor._

"Father, no!" Eleanor cried, attempting to close the distance between her and Delta. She lost him before, she couldn't do it again. She felt tears begin to stream down her cheeks as she ran forwards; attempting to stop what was already decided. She swore she heard a voice in the back of her hear say something, and it was only after she witnessed her Father throw himself over board, dragging her biological mother into the depths, did she realize what those words were. _I love you_, Deltas last words to a daughter he gave everything up for.

She collapsed at the edge of the water, sitting and staring at the world that had truly taken everything from her. Lowering her hand, she touched the ripples where her once Big Daddy had dragged down her captor. She stared into the water, and for the first time since she was young, she broke her mothers rule. And she cried for everything that could've been.

Water rushed past both of the tumbling figures. One was a steel man, created from science and brought back through emotions, the other, a soulless woman who had long ago surpassed the mark of forgiveness, beyond redemption. The man once known as Johnny Topside struggled to remain conscious, the pressures and the fatigue finally reaching him, but he knew he had one duty. He remembered one memory from his time as a diver. Then he set his plan into motion.

Delta grabbed Sophia with his other hand, closing her throat and releasing her ankle. He could feel his eyes burning with hate. This woman had tried to take everything from him, tried to destroy Eleanor, and now, he finally was able to prevent her from having control over the situation. His suit was still sealed, despite being in a blast only minutes before. He guessed his soft tissue had taken the blunt of the damage. He roared defiantly as he forced her mouth shut

As a diver, he was taught that when a body reaches a certain depth, the air in the lungs will react with the outward pressures of the sea. It was around 1 extra atmosphere's pressure every 30 feet. He thought they had fallen around 1300 feet already, so if he could just keep he closed for a little longer…

Sophia's eyes grew wide and she fought with a newfound aggressiveness. She clawed at his visor that was now emitting a constant scarlet hue onto both of their falling frames. Delta simply stared on through his porthole as blood began to flow from her nose and ears; the pressure was crushing her lungs inside of her. He began to leave Sophia to her fate before he noticed the glimmer of something in her hand.

Delta had long given up seeing his daughter when he launched himself over the ledge of the pod, which made the notion of Sophia pointing the gun at his head completely agreeable. He had only one regret, and that was wanting to see Eleanor to the city. Sophia, her eyes bulging and lungs collapse, pointed the barrel into the glass and, with her last living movement, pulled the trigger.

Then, the lone figures released one another. The lighter of the two was swept away by currents, never to be seen by the eyes of humans ever again. The other was dragged down by his sheer weight, unaffected by the moving waters, straight down towards the location of his second birth. As his feet trailed past his body, he felt the last flicker of life leaving him. He was going to die alone. But it didn't matter, Eleanor was safe. He let his mind fade out, and then his body descended.

* * *

In the once majestic halls of _Fontaine Futuristics_ a lone machine hummed to life. Its sole function was not only time consuming, but quite expensive, resource wise at least. Inside its mechanical workings thousands of calculations were going on. Then they hit a speed bump.

89736x7864##78264…..67245524id89274

The machine paused for a second. Something about smells and humans was blocking its functions. It stood in silence, deep in processing before coming up with another method of construction.

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Suddenly, the machine stopped and began to ring out a loud, lone tone. Light poured out from behind the glass doors. Soon, the envelope of white faded and the door silently slid open, dropping the heavy structure onto the floor. The machine quietly turned off, it's function complete. It sent out a small telegraph signal along its cable alerting it's main network connections that it would require a redirection of materials to replenish it's depleted amount.

Somewhere along that line, a dusty conduit sprang to life, slowly turning on primary functions before seizing control of the material lines. Thousands of microscopic amounts of ADAM were feed into a tiny machine. The pipe quickly converged into a larger housing mechanism. The main turbine began to activate and then the whole room lit up. It was time to get down to work…


	2. Chapter 2: Backup Plan

"Groooooouh," Delta quietly said to himself. He knew His head hurt but he trying to remember why it was so damn painful. As he laid there on the ground, he tried to remember what had happened in the past couple of hours. There was something, no, someone, he had to find. He slowly moved his hand to stand, and then slowly his mind came flooding back to him.

Around the dimly lit hallway there were pictures of Plasmid testing areas that were open to the public. To think that one of these pictures might show his face for the enjoyment of these people. He roared and slammed his drill into the wall adjacent to him, tearing the poster apart and digging into the wall quite deep.

He had let everyone who had wronged him to live, and gave all the little sisters he meet a second chance at life. All the time, Sophia had been attempting to protect someone from him, someone who meant a lot to him. Why couldn't he remember? He slammed his fist into a nearby pillar, causing the entire structure to shake. He looked at his hand and felt his eyes begin to tear up.

He had lost everything, given so much up, allowed others to live without his revenge, and THIS was his reward? To live down here without knowing who he missed so much? His entire body fell backwards and leaned against the pillar. He couldn't even remember what had happened in the last hour or so. He tilted his entire helmet back, hitting the back of the pillar and denting the finely carved wood exterior covering. He moved his eyes around the area, spotting a T.V. Only a picture of delta was on present, with the words "Monster" below. Then it flickered to Sophia-

Lamb!, thought Delta, standing back up, She killed me again! She's the reason I'm down here! She's the reason I'm not with…with-

He roared and charged towards the television; crushing it in one swift blow. She shot me…she caused a trauma induced death! This is her fault! He felt his mind slipping away, into a thought filled with rage, and nothing but. Not like it mattered anymore. Eleanor wasn't here-

His thoughts suddenly cleared and he searched the room. Eleanor! That was her, he thought. Images of her long black hair and her pale face filled his mind. His thoughts drifted to how he saved her, the explosion that sealed his fate, her taking his essence so she wouldn't be alone. The little girl he was bonded to, his daughter who was now on the surface world without him.

She wasn't here.

Delta turned around and slowly walked towards the Vita-Chamber that had given him life. He wanted to crush it, and he lifted his drill. It might not be Sophia, but it was close and he was pissed. As he lifted the Drill, he noticed a small shred of brown cloth was clinging to it, some kind of leather. Delta lowered his drill and gently peeled it off the drill head. He un-equipped his drill and turned the cloth around itself multiple times. Something important about this leather made him thing of someone familiar.

Upon turning it around again, he noticed a bit of an image on it, some sort of half zero maybe? No, it had a tail underneath it, like some sort of ornate symbol. Then he had a new objective. He opened up one of the panels on the Vita-Chamber and quickly pulled out a few wires. He had hacked dozens of machines in Rapture before, what made this one any different? Deltas hands stripped off coatings of wires, tying some together while leaving others apart. He left the tangled mess inside the machine and attempted to open the DNA hatch, throwing the strip in and quietly thinking a prayer.

He slammed the hatches shut and stood back. It needed power, he thought. He looked for an on switch but was only met with the simple power cords that disappeared into the walls behind him. He looked at his hand and had an idea. Lifting it level with the console, he felt his very DNA tingle as electrical charges slowly built up in his nerves. As they reached full capacity, he let out a stream of energy, arcing from him into the machine.

The Vita-Chamber felt something wrong, very wrong indeed. Not only was the DNA sample it was given not a match, but some one had vandalized its inner workings! This was not only a crime, but a felony; it would need to report-

Its processors stopped for a moment as it was hit with energy it never felt before, its circuits were positively dancing with excess energy! Suddenly, its wires began to communicate without its approval. The machine felt the last of its reserves slowly draining, leaving only wastes behind as plasmids built a new body and mind. Lighting shot down from the top and chemicals began to churn. Then life began to develop again.

Delta stood back as he ran out of the last of his Eve. The Vita-Chamber, now powered by new energy, started to perform its job. If the sample was of who Delta thought it was of, then he would have a familiar face to guide him through this again, maybe even fight with him this time. Delta felt his lips begin to smile as the chamber started to glow with a bright light and started to hum. He covered his visor as to protect his eyes from the brilliance, but it didn't stop him from smiling inside.

He waited for the lights to dim down, then began to move his hand as the once bright light faded into the dark halls. It took him a second to get his sight back, as the light had forced his eyes to restrict and made him almost blind in the dark corridors. As they dilated, he removed his hand fully and walked closer to the chamber. Peering inside, he saw a vast amount of stream buildup, most likely from the fact that the machine hadn't had time to cool down before hand.

He knocked on the glass and tried to open the doors to no avail. It seemed the doors only opened from the inside. He moaned and knocked again, hoping to awaken his friend from his death sleep. As he put his suited hand on the glass, another glove came from the inside to mirror it. Delta jumped for a moment and he moved his other hand to the handle and attempted, again, to open the door. He felt the glass begin to shift and open, dropping a heavy Alpha onto Deltas body.

Delta, expecting the Big Daddy that laid on him to be a little more energetic, was surprised when he heard soft murmuring from underneath the helmet. Delta moved the figure to the wall and stepped back. He grabbed one of the Alphas hands and lifted the glove to his visors light. **Ω **was painted in white upon his glove. Delta bumped the helmet of the Alpha in an attempt to awaken the man inside. He heard shifting, then a gloved hand came around to knock his hand away, as if Delta was only an annoying fly. Delta grabbed the hand and knocked again, this time more aggressively.

"Can't a fella' get a little shut eye?" Inquired the southern accented voice.

Delta watched as the figure started to stand up, slowly balancing on his wobbling legs. Lifting his hands, the Alpha slowly examined himself. He gazed up at Delta. Standing in silence, both simply stood facing each other. Omega put a hand on Delta and started to wobble once again. Both men had only recently been dead, and life now seemed more tiring then either could imagine.

'"Sport, Is that you underneath there? I had the wildest dream, I was dead and you were-". Sinclair stopped himself. He looked at his own hands and then became silent, and then he softly breathed into his helmet. Sinclair stood up on his own, his legs now as sturdy as steel. He chuckled and nudged Delta with his hand.

"I told you, me and you, we're going places," Sinclair's voice was like a sweet blanket, insulating Delta from his darker thoughts. Delta could only groan in reply. Sinclair patted his shoulder and stepped back, trying out his new Protector body, which was truly his for the first time. Delta watched Sinclair perform varying actions, like moving his hands and fingers, or twisting his torso around. As he turned back to the vita chamber, he realized something.

Sinclair didn't have a weapon. And down here, that was everything.

Delta reached around to his rack on his air tanks and grabbed the power drill. He hefted it around and handed it to Sinclair, who had become fascinated by his helmets view port and was tapping at it to test out its strength. The new Alpha looked at the drill presented to him and silently stared at it. Sinclair chuckled again and gently took the drill from Delta. He slipped it over his hand and revved the machine up, feeling it vibrating his hand.

"Now, as much as I wish I could wield this fine piece of equipment, I'm a little worried about how you'll handle yourself out here, boy." Sinclair lowered the weapon and pointed to the location behind Delta.

"I don't happen to see a pile of equipment, and it would appear as thought your eve tank is empty." Sinclair put his other hand under his visor, as if to reach for a chin that wasn't there. He stood there, allowing Delta to wonder how this man was so accepting of himself even now, after becoming a monster.

Sinclair snapped his fingers, or at least attempted to through his leather gloves, and pointed towards one of the walls. A small neon sign flickered, barely alive but giving enough light to tell Delta and Omega the location it was meant to indicate.

_**Ryan Props Convention **_

Sinclair grabbed Deltas shoulder and stepped to his side as Delta stood in awe at the sign. He turned his port hole to Delta, and underneath the glowing yellow glass, he smiled his usual grin.

"Might as well look there, Sport, I heard that this convention had all the big mans newest gizmos. Maybe a nice pea shooter to get you started off. Hell, I'm willing to bet my nicest dime that some of my goodies have survived there." With that, Sinclair walked of, heading towards the signs indication. Delta just stared. He didn't care anymore, it's not like he could see Eleanor again, she was gone.

Sinclair stopped when he only heard his own footsteps in the hall. He turned and saw Delta silently mourning a life he never had a chance to have with Eleanor. His smile faded for a second. The man gave me life and freedom, he told himself, and all I can give him are my 2 cent jokes. He sighed and walked back towards Delta.

"Hey, you did what you could. If she's on the surface, then I'm sure she'll do fine and peachy on her own up there." Delta remained a statue.

Sinclair was a little upset now. He knew that Delta had to move on, it was already a miracle that he hadn't shut down already from being far from Eleanor. And now he was there, and two miracles was quite a task to pull off in a couple of days. A third would be pushing the bar. It's not like he could give him a spaceship. All he had to his name was what remained of his decade old company.

Wait…

"Delta, she used my Persephone boat, didn't she?" Sinclair had a new smile and was trying not to laugh at his own discovery. Delta moaned in agreement. Sinclair started to chuckle, unable to hold himself back, patting Deltas helmet he announced his news.

"ANY business man worth his money would have a backup plan, and most importantly," he lifted his drill slightly in excitement, "A back-up mode of transportation should the need arise."

Delta suddenly connected the dots, and turned to his fellow Big Daddy. He swore he saw a smile behind his glass, but could never be sure. Delta roared in glee, Sinclair pushing his shoulder back playfully. Delta, for the first time in years felt tears in his eyes, which only annoyed him further as he had no way to wipe them. Sinclair laughed a little louder and waved his drill toward the convention.

"My company keeps, well, kept, around four puppies in case one had any issues. If my building is still standing, and I'm betting it still is, then they should all be sitting there, waiting for our cue to launch to the surface like hell fires at there rears." He put a little more motion into his drill, "But to get there and to your little lady, you'll need a good weapon."

Delta started to run towards the halls, Sinclair following quite closely. Delta raised his eyes to the ceiling. Eleanor, he said to himself, I'm coming back for you.

* * *

The ancient machine was slowly fumbling over ancient calculations. How long had it been asleep for? A day? Weeks? A year?

More than a decade it concluded.

There was so much to be done. As it sprang around it's functions, its central turbine began to gain speed, creating arcs of energy at rapid speeds, all of which was transferred to old machinery. As if the electricity were tendrils, the machine felt it connect to old and worn out components. It felt as Turrets and cameras sprang to life, now given new meaning. Security drones began to buzz back into their routines, and even the gatherers gardens were active.

No, they were empty.

The machine buzzed around, searching for its gatherers. It found a few in the city but not a number to be significant enough to mean anything. Thinking to itself, it set back to the old nurseries that had somehow sprung to life. It detected a few children still present. It reviewed their records and discovered that these girls had just finished their mental conditioning. Excellent.

It opened another processor to the protector program, revealing dozens of unused ones still hibernating. It was perplexed by the appearance of them as the cameras turned their direction. One of them was a design it had never seen before, and the others were still in testing phases as far as it remembered. But they were functional nonetheless, and had the ballast tanks preserving them emptied immediately.

Rapture needed an overhaul, and now it was time to start. The machine felt what can only be described as pleasure at the thought of being the machine that repaired the city by itself. Yes, that would please Mr. Ryan very much so.


	3. Chapter 3: Nothing Changes

Delta and Sinclair must've been walking for hours. Deltas feet kept dragging on robotically at a slower pace then when he had first started. Deltas mind was no longer his own, as it was racing around the plans that he had created after Sinclair told him of his spare launch boats. If what Sinclair had said was true, then they would be running to what would be the complete other side of the city,

Sinclair had been trailing behind for quite a while, despite having the only weapon between the two. Strange thing was that even though he had been forced to attack Delta and Eleanor, all of which was against his will, he had no real memory of how to fight enemies. He had simply assumed that when they met Splicers it would just occur to him naturally. But they had a quiet trip through Fontaine's facility. Delta thought of the irony that his life was. Only hours ago he would have had to kill dozens, if not hundreds, of Splicers already.

The dark halls had continued for what seemed like years, always longer when you took a step into the dimly lit light. They had only recently reached this wider, open area and hade barely gotten into the better lit portion when they heard a screech. Sinclair instantly revved up his drill and began to examine the remains of the room. Their lights slowly swayed over the ruins, quietly examining the cracked walls and the destroyed architecture that now surrounded them.

Delta waved his light over something glimmering blue in the feeble light their helmets produced. He slowly walked over and picked up an Eve hypo. Oh joy, he thought silently, more chemicals for my body. He opened the container and leaned forward, dumping the chemical into a tank that lay on his helmets back portion. He listened for the sickening conformation of the machines pushing the liquid poison down into his veins. He groaned in pain as his body was forced to reactivate the dormant genes in his system.

Sinclair continued to look around for the source of the screaming, to no results. He turned to face Delta and shrugged with what remained of his shoulders. Suddenly, a mad cackle started up as the remaining lights in the room shattered, leaving the Alphas spotlight sights. The Big Daddies moved together, turning their backs to each other, slowly circling and moving their vision as if to locate a camouflaged predator in the room.

His light examined the room's details, and he started to make a mental map of where the location of his facility would be. They had been running for a couple of hours, and they still were in the belly of Fontaine's structure, meaning that they must've started somewhere in the dead center. Using some numbers, one could conclude that they had at least a few days trek ahead without the use of any trains or metro stations. His mind refocused onto the situation at hand.

"Sport, I don't like the looks of this at all," Sinclair said, visibly shaken from the first screech earlier. Delta turned his helmet slightly and patted his fellow Alphas series shoulder. Sinclair seemed to calm down a bit, and quickly returned his gaze to the walls which now hid their enemies. Sinclair bit his lip and started to think to himself about how he would use the drill. He remembers that the drill only had limited ammo and fuel, and every second was valuable.

Delta felt his hand tingling with the electricity that began to spark up his hand, but he would need time for the Eve to fully disperse into his blood stream before he could use the Electro-Bolt safely. He eventually decided to use his armor to his own advantage. He had fought Alphas who used their armor as weapons, shouldn't he do the same? He moaned and searched the walls, itching to fight, to have something to take his frustration out on. He started to give up, and then he saw the creature hooked onto the wall.

The Spider Splicer screamed and jumped at Delta, who roared and changed his light from the calm yellow to a dark maroon. He grabbed the monstrosity's throat and attempted to launch an Electro-Bolt, but only felt his muscles pain themselves; he needed more time still. The creature looked at him with its one bulging eye and started to scream.

"You gotta' make them stop! YOU GOTTA MAKETHEM!" cried the pitiful creature, his jagged teeth gnashing as Delta stared onwards. The Alpha knew neither who "They" were, nor did he care. As far as he was concerned, this former-man was in-between him and Eleanor.

He settled for throwing it against the pillar and slamming full force into it. He pulled back, feeling the crushed organs sticking to the pillars crater. He roared and looked for a new target, one which would give him a challenge. He glanced back at Omega, who was now slamming his drill into the unfortunate face of the Thug Splicer who had made the daring and oh-so-brave move of attacking head on. He swore he heard Sinclair swearing, cursing this damnable monster for forcing him to hurt his friends. Delta tried to smile, but another Splicer started to attack Sinclair from behind. Delta slammed into the aggressor, breaking his spine in the process.

Sinclair was obvious angered by being forced to use the drills rotary power, and began to shout at any Splicer who came close to him or his friend.

"I don't have a damn clue about what that psycho-bitch pumped into me, but I'm sure it's enough to KILL YOU!" He launched himself as quickly as he could at the Lead head Splicer who attempted to let its Tommy gun loose on him, only to be faced with a spinning drill and one seriously upset Big Daddy. Delta was forced to look away before he could see the drill hit, but the screams he heard behind him gave him a pretty clear picture. He finished off one more Splice, crushing his skull in his massive hands. He turned to see Sinclair standing in the center of the room, a bloody drill in one hand and blood smeared across his arm. Despite the obviously brutal deaths he just gave the Splicers, he lifted his free hand and gave a 'thumbs up' to his partner in crime.

"Damn well the best workout I ever did happen to have. You never told me how great it feels to be you, not having to worry about getting tired all I mean." Sinclair's voice seemed to calm after taking out his anger, calming him somewhat. Delta moaned and started to trek back over. He was a little disappointed that the lights were off, that would make their job longer and even more annoying, having to locate the exits before continuing onwards. Delta began to feel his vision turn back to the usual yellow hue, and it was then that the Brute Splicer jumped out of the shadows into Omegas frame.

Sinclair made a slight yelp at the discovery of his new enemy, but qui8ckly retorted with a good blow to the head. The Brute slammed Sinclair into a wall, forcing the Alpha to drop the drill. The brute laughed as it repeatedly slammed Sinclair's helmet into the wall, denting the concrete foundation. His deep voice and British accent was a combination that Delta had found quite disturbing through all the fights and encounters he had had in his journey.

The Brute laughed as his fists began to pummel Sinclair's armor, which echoed around the room. His laughing was cut short by Delta, who charged into the Brute full force, roaring the whole time with his inhuman roar. Delta began to exchange blows with the creature, slamming his fists into the soft tissue of his enemy over and over. The Brute had a hard time keeping up with the flurry of attacks. The light protruding from his glass became a deep, deep red, hiding the blood that began to spill from the Brutes face.

Delta's thoughts began to fade into one thought; Kill them all. They did this to me, they deserve this. Soon, his mind would be gone, and he would just be another mindless drone for the Alphas. As he fought to keep his mind together, he could hear a voice in his head, as if to reach out to him. His mind began to remerge from its depths, and Delta threw one last punch before standing back up. He looked at where he had dragged the bastard, and just how badly he beat it.

Sinclair slowly walked next to Delta, his drill once again on his hand. He looked at the bloody mess that was present on the pillar then back to Delta. He shrugged and simply stated "I have to say, that is one dandy right hook you must have." As He turned, the Brute tried to leap back up towards Sinclair. Delta quickly grasped his face gave it a good clean blow, feeling the jaw disconnect from the face. The Brute looked with a furious glance, but Delta covered the rest of his face with the free hand, and with the Eve fully flowing through his body, charged him with enough energy to kill an elephant.

The smoking figure slumped to the ground, the clear scorch-marks of a hand etched into his baked flesh. Sinclair started to chuckle.

"They just don't seem to get the memo, do they?" He heaved his drill, adjusting his shoulder into what must've been a more comfortable position. "They seem to be just itching for the beating of a lifetime, eh sport?" He began to walk back towards the center, guided by the lights that started to flicker to life slowly. Delta stared at his hand and softly moaned. He missed Eleanor. That's all he ever wanted, to be with her. This was a nightmare…nothing but a nightmare. He stared into the ceiling, wishing that the water would just crush him already. But no, he had a duty, he thought, I have to be there for Eleanor, no matter the cost.

It was then that a high pitched metallic screech began to shake the room again. This time, however, was the last warning. Sinclair and Delta had only a moment to react before the Big Sister charged down on them

* * *

There was a quiet knocking at the door of the house. The ocean was only a few hundred yards away, gently splashing along the shoreline and reflecting the golden globe that was quickly retreating behind the sun. A large man, dressed in his finest suit, complimenting his dark skin quite nicely. He slowly walked down the stairs, finishing his tie and some minor touches to his top, and stepped onto his ground floor. He cleared his throat and opened the clean, white door.

He adjusted his glasses, because what he saw couldn't be right. But when the fog cleared, he was right the first time. There stood what must have been 8 little girls and there leader or he assumed it was their leader due to her size and age, in rags and covered in dirt. He stood there silently for a moment, as if to think about what action would be the best one, before concluding that introductions would be the most effective method.

"I apologize, but what is the meaning of this?" he asked not in a rude voice, but rather one of concern. The young girls seemed to have been crying moment ago. The oldest tried to keep her look of confidence, but it was obvious to see she had endured the largest trauma. He took notice of the young woman's attire, which was a strange diving suit of some sort. She stood in silence for a moment, before slowly beginning to speak to the man.

"Is this…is this the residence of Mr. Porter?" She asked, holding back tears in her large eyes. Charles quietly contemplated how this girl knew him, but he saw no point in lying to her, or any of the girls for that matter. He cleared his voice one last time, and then softly answered her question. "Yes, my name is Mr. Charles Porter. Can I help you?"

"My name is Eleanor…and I need your help." She began to tear up, but whether it was joy or sorrow Charles couldn't figure out. He thought of helping the girl, but remembered that things had changed since his return. 'I'm sorry," he quickly stated, attempting to close the door, "But I'm rather busy and I need personal time, so I'm afraid-"

"You used to be named Sigma."

Charles immediately stopped his hands. This couldn't be happening. No, it was not happening. He cracked the door, leaving only enough room for one of his eyes to peer out. Behind his door, he reached his hand towards his throat, where scars of his past still stood to remind him. He swallowed deeply, breathing in the air as if it were thicker then blood.

"Who the hell are you" he asked, more afraid then angered, "and how do you know about that?" The girl named Eleanor allowed tears to fall down from her face, splashing the concrete steps with her salty tears. Charles struggled to keep his door slightly closed. He couldn't help but wish to talk to this girl a little more with each passing second. Charles house guest, however, was a little less patient.

The door flew open, and the girls outside starred at the new figure in the door. Brigid Tenenbaum had never been a patient woman, and she always had her way, whther others wished it or not. The only thing she cared about more then furthering science was the care of her little ones, and she now saw at least seven before her. She turned her scolding gaze towards Charles who simply stared back. Brigid looked back to the girls before locating the tallest.

"Eleanor?" She asked, her accent quite noticeable to the young children.

Eleanor looked up to the woman, her eyes still tearing up. She solemnly walked towards the elder woman, then promptly buried her face into a shoulder and started to cry. Brigid looked upon the other girl's faces, each one as sad as the last, before realizing what had happened in her absence. She then held Eleanor's head, and for the first time in her long and rugged life, she began to feel hers eyes tingle with tears.


	4. Chapter 4: Meeting of the Minds

Charles brought the tea into the living room, the mug still releasing large amounts of steam as he moved it to the girl who now sat in some ancient hand-me-downs. The dark haired girl looked up, attempted to smile, and then continued her solemn silence. Porter sat besides her, hoping that maybe he could slightly cheer her up. Had only just come to terms with his wife's death himself, so he knew what it was like to lose someone who was so close to your heart. Maybe he could help her, he would say, only to be driven away when she started to tear up again.

Brigid had taken the little ones upstairs immediately to re-clothe them and start some form of mental treatment. Eleanor, far larger then anything Tenenbaum had taken from Rapture, was forced to wear one of Pearls older dresses. It took him hours to find one, but Charles had discovered one that he thought was most appropriate for a lady of Eleanor's age; an elegant sky blue with laced sleeves and small patterns trailing it's trimmings. It was…one of Pearls favorites, it was only right to use it to help someone in desperate need, as this girl required now.

"The little ones have settled down," stated Tenenbaum as she moved down the stairs, "now they need rest, and we need to talk." She quickly moved in next to Eleanor and let one of her arms embrace the quiet girl. Tenenbaum, despite her personality, seemed to have a calming effect on girls, almost acting like a second mother to most. Charles on the other hand always seemed distant until he was able to talk in a flowing conversation. He quietly watched as the two ladies gently held each other, and as crazy as it sounded, he felt the awkward atmosphere slowly fade away, as if it was willed away by Tenenbaum's touch.

Brigid pulled her face back slowly and looked into the girls eyes, which contained fear and regrets that she could only imagine. She gently stroked a lock of hair from Eleanor's face and cleared the rest behind her ears. She quietly cooed and made some shushing noises, softly stroking Eleanor's hair. Eleanor, still scared and confused, had sat in silence with only the occasional sniffle to assure them that she was still breathing. Sitting her up, Tenenbaum coaxed the girl into telling them her story.

Both Charles and Brigid had no idea how bad things really were.

* * *

Delta and Sinclair were trapped. The lights that had started to flicker into existence had been smashed by their new enemy's weapons as she jumped around the room in her dark environment. Delta, his plasmid slightly sparking, started to groan before stomping the floor and shaking the room.

"Jesus, kid, you trying to bring the whole place down on top of us?" Sinclair snapped, his back still to Delta with his drill slowly rotating from the kinetic energy left behind. He checked his fuel, and was glad to see that Deltas decision to weld on a fuel efficiency attachment was a wise choice; he still had half the fuel left in his tanks. Heaving the drill back up, he begin to mutter to himself how his life was just fantastic.

_She's here_, thought Delta, simply because of the sisters I saved. _It's like no matter what I do, these psycho's seem to be able to home in on me!_

He could feel the liquid Eve flowing through his veins, moving from cell to cell carrying the precious drug ADAM. He gazed around the room's shadowy interior, wishing that the Sister would jump out and attack so he could let his energy out already. He could hear Sinclair slowly mumbling something, but he didn't understand without the radio on between the two. He returned to the darkness, discovering the Sister hiding on a ledge.

Her spot discovered, she leapt onto Deltas body, attempting to cut his chest apart. She raised her Hand, only to have Delta throw his Bolt from point-blank range as he swung his fist around. She jumped back, pushing his body towards the wall as her slender frame launched from him. Sinclair turned and attempted to charge, but the Sister jumped over him with ease. She stopped to examine their position before once again screeching.

Delta, having recovered from her first assault, tackled the girl and smashed her into a wall. The room, now having multiple fractures in its interior design, began to moan much like a dying animal. Delta pulled her back, beginning to worry about how much more the room could stand before the ceiling and walls would give way. He lifted his fist and pounded her helmet with a tremendous force the only a Big Daddy could achieve.

Delta looked for Sinclair as the Sister was recovering from the first blow. His light soon fell on the frame of his fellow Alpha, who was slowly starting to stand back up from his collision with the wall. Sinclair turned to Delta, giving another thumbs up before running back to help his friend. Delta, sidetracked by his progress, was knocked aside by the Sister as she attempted again to rip him apart.

Sinclair tried to charge into the girl again, making contact and dragging her to the center of the room. He lifted her up with his free hand and spun his drill, building speed up to charge the Electromagnetic dynamos. His hand began to tighten around the Girls collar to the helmet, and then he spoke to her, using his accent as if he was a pleasant conversation.

"My mother told me to never hit a lady, no matter what, but in your case," he lifted the drill up as his voice became more angered, "I'm willing to make an exception!"

His drill began to pulse with electrical discharge and he swung, slamming the girl and launching her with the reflector plate's energy. The Sister flew back into the dark, her helmet barely illuminating the area around her. Delta stood back up and darted to run towards her, his fist beginning to flow with energy again.

The Sister was truly dazed this time, and Delta felt completely safe approaching her. Sinclair walked up next to his partner and they stood examining the girl who lay before them. Delta began to walk closer as the Sister, disoriented and confused, jumped onto Delta and fired a random telekinetic burst, throwing Sinclair back towards the wall, knocking his head against the stone and steel and returning the favor of painful trauma.

Delta was pinned beneath the Sister's knees, which had dug into his elbows. She lifted her needle with the red glow of her helmet focused on him. For a second he fought, attempting to reach his hand up, only to find that moving his arms only hurt more. He looked at the Big Sister, who screeched one lat time and raised the needle to its killing height. He relaxed, letting his hands fizzle out and his view port turned a calm yellow. This is it. He came back to life at the bottom of the ocean and revived his friend only to be killed later on. Such is life, he told himself, feeling poetic. He closed his eyes and braced himself of r the pain.

The Sister lowered the needle, as if in a trance, letting its arms dangle to the side. Delta felt her release her tense body muscles and opened his eyes to understand what had happened. He looked up to the Sister, who now stared blankly into his glass window. He wondered if maybe she fell asleep, and tried to move her. She immediately snapped back to the reality and raised her needle again. Delta stopped and thought about a cat toying with its prey. Was this girl using him as a source of amusement? No matter, she would kill him momentarily.

But then the Sister stopped again, lowering the weapons again and staring into Deltas yellow light. Delta tried to understand just what was wrong with the girl and why she was acting the way she was. When he had been hunting Eleanor, he had Big Sisters on his back almost constantly. Now, while he was alone, she seemed to be…submissive? Delta decided to experiment, and maybe grasp an understanding about what was going on.

Keeping his eyes on the view port of his would-be killer, he calmly and gently moved his arms free and picked up the girl, moving her from her seat on top of his chest. So far, no problems. As long as Eye-contact remained, then she would remain stunned by him. He slowly stood up, the girl still on her knees looking up into his helmet. He grabbed one of her arms and gently lifted her up. Even when at full height, she was a good few feet shorter then his enormous figure.

He kept staring into her view port, trying to understand what she wanted from him, but she only offered her silence and cold gaze. Delta then noticed the tingling feeling at the back of his head. He attempted to probe that area, thinking it was maybe a memory, but he could only imagine static. He tried harder, trying to break down the mental wall that was in his mind. Focusing, he felt the slow breakdown of the mental barrier, and was flooded with senses. He had to cringe and clench his fists to prevent breaking eye contact.

When the primary pain left, Delta explored the new feelings he had, but was saddened to find nothing but dark thoughts. Except one…one thought stood out. Like an itch at the back of his head, it scratched its way to the surface, revealing its true intent and purpose. It was loneliness. A lack of hope, Of joy. Delta was pained just to imagine it, but he had to remain calm. He swore that this barrier was not present before Big Sister attacked them.

Was this the Sisters inner thoughts and feelings? Did that mean that he was connected to this girl in her suit? It's not like it was impossible. He just shot lightning out his hand for god's sake. But why now, only after he had killed so many others like her did this one decide to talk to him? Was it because Eleanor was gone from him?

As his thoughts slowly became deeper, e hit the one idea that this discovery just brought up. Did the ones I fight feel like this?

Guilt washed over him, and he felt his knees shake. Those girls used to be like Eleanor, simple Little Sisters. What if Eleanor had grown up alone and afraid? Would he have lived to fight her as she lost her mind or would he still be dead? He decided to forget those thoughts, attempting to break eye contact with the Sister would mean certain death, but he had to get Sinclair back up.

He moaned as loud as possible towards Sinclair, careful to keep his eyes on the Sister. Sinclair did not respond. Delta took a step, startling the Sister. Delta braced himself for her jump, but instead, she launched herself straight up to the ceiling, grabbing onto the walls edging, and disappearing into the dark shadows along the edges.

Delta took this chance to run to Sinclair. Sinclair himself had been barely awake after the last hit. Delta knelt down and hooked him under his shoulder, forcing him to his feet Sinclair moaned himself, moving his hand to his head, bracing himself as he started to cough. He began to stand up again, the drill forcing him to stand awkwardly.

"I'm alright, Sport. Little lady clonked me good, that's all." He started to laugh and began to straighten out his back, adjusting the equipment on his helmets back. He cleared his throat and looked to Delta to reassure him. He laughed a little harder when the lights decided to come back on. "Strangest thing I ever saw."

Sinclair continued down one of the hallways that became lit. Delta looked back to where the Sister had jumped to. He had the small desire to see her jump back out from the shadows to greet him, but he decided it was for the best. He had no idea just HOW unstable the sisters might be. He turned his heels and started after Sinclair towards the Props Show.

* * *

How interesting, the machine thought out, they seem to be moving towards Mr. Ryan's show. The ancient machinery whirred and calculated their arrival time, resulting in various solutions, each one unfavorable. The computers mind slowly began new scenarios, each with a new independent variable. After around four thousand tests, it decided to conduct one more to determine their objectives. It would not inform Ryan yet, there would be no need. Strange how quite he's been lately, though, maybe I should contact him? No, he must be working. In fact, thought the machine, he must be performing a preliminary check on me, to track my progress!

Utilizing ancient structures and algorithms, the machine created a new data structure and embedded its structure into an ADAM containers material. The vial slowly rose up on an arm before disappearing into the dark void above the central processor's structure. The machine continued to monitor the sections of the city, slowly ordering repairs and new materials along with following these two Alpha models journey. Interesting how much self thought and function they displayed for Big Daddies. It then decided a test was in order.

Protocol 78-yhu-62. Setting up a rally point for the "Rosie Big Daddy (Why would the record call it a Rosie?), it progressed through multiple figures until it ordered a Little Sister through the vent. It was time to analyze these Alphas motives and combat capabilities…


	5. Chapter 5: Unto water you shall return

"I am still…how you say, confused, about how you KNOW your vater Delta is still alive…" Brigid was on the edge of her chair, sipping her tea, trying to remain calm while Eleanor, who only recently stopped crying, continued with her story. She wiped her hair out of her eyes and again tried to explain her instincts. She slowly relaxed her muscles, which were sore from teleporting the entire ship. She looked back up and cast her deep blue eyes at both Porter and Tenenbaum.

"Dr. Tenenbaum, you remember how the pair bond activates, do you not?" Eleanor had to force herself not to cry as the words slowly fumbled out, "Dr. Alexander built in the failsafe to prevent a Protector from wandering too far from his sister, but Sisters did not have the same compatibility."

"Ja, I remember it, vhy would it be important now?" Her brows furrowed in question as she tried to conclude where the subject was headed.

"BUT," Continued Eleanor, "We did have the ability to read what our guardians were feeling, such as pain and torment, as if we where always watching them. That's how I knew my Father came back for me, I could FEEL him. That's why I know he was in so much pain…just to reach me…" Her eyes lowered to the ground as the truth of her words finally sunk in.

Delta, with everything he could've done in the city, chose to suffer for her. And she knew it was not simply for survival. She could feel him wanting to be with her. It was usually the only thought that she could clearly get off him, his unbendable will, his wish to suffer through all the nightmares, all the anguish, just to be with her, of all the people in his small world. She bit her lip to stop the tears that were forming. Oh god, she thought, what kind of sick daughter am I?

Brigid looked to Porter, who only shrugged, a little upset that he couldn't even help the girl in front of him. Tenenbaum decided to let Eleanor cry out one last time. However, the raven haired girl instead sniffed, looked up with her puffy eyes, and cleared her throat. She moved her hair back again and continued with her story.

"After Father and…mother…fell off the side of the boat, I felt Father slowly die. He was fading, but then he was suddenly cut off from me. It was almost as if his last moments were just snipped away. So I began to steer the boat towards land, hoping to get close enough to the shore to teleport all of us here safely. Then…I felt hope again, like a match was lit in my heart." Eleanor slowly smiled and looked back down, her tears far and between each others soft pitter patter.

"He died twice, and he still refuses to leave me. Would Mother have acted the same way, just for me?" She slowly shook as even more tears fell down. "I'm a mess," She said to herself, "How many more times will I breakdown like this?" Her hand wiped some of the tears away, clearing her vision for a moment.

Porter looked on with awe. This girl…this single human, had been forced to deal with so much more in the past few hours of her life then he had ever had to face in his entire existence. He looked to Brigid, hoping for her to say a few magic, soothing words for the small girl in front of them. Instead she looked on in her horror, her eyes expanded to their soft rims. Her hands were shaking as she put the drink down. She tried to breathe, but she could only cough. Porter stared with a brow raised, attempting to figure out what her problem was.

Tenenbaum looked to Eleanor and inched forward to the edge of her seat.

"Eleanor, did you turn off the chamber system like I told you to? It is of the utmost importance that you did, especially if your mother did in fact destroy Persephone."

Eleanor shook her head. "Mother detonated the prison before I could reach the controls, so I just assumed that they would be destroyed in the blast." She looked back to Brigid, her eyes attempting to decode the meaning behind the German's words. Tenenbaum only stared at Eleanor, quietly and silently screaming.

Tenenbaum stood up and began to pace the room, quietly mumbling to herself as she began to speak in her own language. Porter stood up and put both hands on her shoulders as Eleanor watched the two adults whisper to each other. Porter turned towards Eleanor and sat down next to her. He clasped one of her hands and looked through his own glasses into her eyes.

"You said earlier that you attempted to extract his ADAM from his body, did you drain all of it?" He asked, his voice showing distress.

"Apparently not, he IS alive; I can feel it I tell you…" Eleanor looked back, her eyes begging for an answer to why they acted so scared. They only offered their piercing gaze though.

"I didn't drain it all, no," answered Eleanor, looking away from their piercing gaze. The adults only muttered some quiet words to each other before they returned to Eleanor. She started to ask a question before Tenenbaum quickly dashed past her to the closet. Eleanor watched her fit her arm through a coats fur-lined sleeve. Eleanor tried to ask a question, but her breath was caught as Porter lifted her up and pushed her own coat into her hands. He adjusted his glasses and walked to the phone.

"Dr. Porter, I need to know what on earth is happening. Was it something I did?" Eleanor asked, her arms fitting snuggly into the coats sleeves.

Tenenbaum grabbed Eleanor's hand and led her outside. She closed the wooden door and cleared her throat. The German then asked where Eleanor had left the submersible hidden. Eleanor pointed her delicate finger in the opposite direction of the setting sun, where the darkness of night had begun to coagulate and draw in the light of the stars. Tenenbaum nodded and started off.

"Doctor, would someone PLEASE explain what is going on and what does any of this have to do with my father?" Eleanor pleaded, desperate to understand the strange actions of the scientists.

"Eleanor, Porter will be right behind you. He is arranging for a neighbor on a nearby lot to watch the little ones. This has only one thing to do with Herr Delta, but I cannot express the urgency," The Woman said as she walked away from Eleanor, "in which we must return to Rapture."

_**We must return to Rapture**_

The convention was quiet, it's once glorious halls destroyed by the ravages that history creates. The walls, once a lovely cream, now were stained with the blood and grime of a war where not one man or woman was not marred. Deltas feeble light only barely lit up the first hall, but someone must've cut him a break as the next ones were completely powered, and thick white light pushed the rough darkness away.

The two Alphas slowly made their way through what appeared to have been an entrance for the viewers, its once flawless glass windows. Sinclair headed the ending, using his drill to scare the occasional curious Splicer away. His footsteps rang out behind Delta, forcing the glass in the window to vibrate and clatter, resembling the teeth of a dark maw that consumed the light before Deltas sight.

Delta moaned in his calm tones, as if to remind himself to stay focused. His mind had been adrift lately, full of a churning sea of thoughts and doubts. They all had to do with people and things such as life, Rapture, his memories. Eleanor. It appeared that she, along with Sinclair's helping hand, were the only things keeping him calm. He wanted to just wake up from this nightmare, to awaken into a world where he was Johnny Topside, but he knew that no amount of wishing would bring him any closer to his dreams.

Sinclair slowly led up the rear. He kept glancing back over his shoulder as if to find a Big Sister following them, but still they were alone. Delta would stop every now and then for Sinclair to catch up, as the halls were so very long, and Deltas patience was starting to stretch out thin. Sinclair's metal boots grated against the halls tile floors as he lumbered forward.

"Hey Sport, I'm starting to think we took a wrong turn." The southern accent carried into Deltas helmet, forcing him to look behind to see his fellow Alpha, "I think the convention hall is back there," He motioned behind him, his hand pointing his thumb back through his thick leather glove.

Delta grunted in approval, and turned to face him. Then the lights flickered, causing both Big Daddies to stop and prepare for the inevitable fight. Their searchlights flamed into existence, lighting up the halls as the lights started to dim. Sinclair tested out the drill, spinning it a few times before readying his arm to gouge out a few Splicer organs.

Delta felt lightning tingling his skin and glove. HE decided that as much fun as it was to fry an enemy, he wanted to light up the hallway, and lightning doesn't catch things on fire. Not like fire does. His skin slowly crawled as the plasmid that lay dormant changed the structure of his cells, forcing them to shift and release combustible chemicals, causing a small flame to form on his fist and dance across his knuckles.

The alphas both readied their legs to leap. Delta heard whispers in the dark, but none seemed to brave the shadows into the floodlights of the helmets. Except for one lone light, but it wasn't a light, nor was it a Splicers eyes, not as delta could see.

It was a lone, red, porthole.

Delta watched as it left the halls, darting behind the walls into an adjoining hallway most likely. The Big Daddy roared and charged, determined to find this Sister and get answers, but all Sinclair saw was is friend run off towards a fainting light. He grit his teeth and followed the charge.

Delta must've chased the Sister for minutes at least, as they were now in a new hallway that Delta couldn't remember going through before. The walls were quite a bit more pleasant and whole, but Delta was not interested in the walls; His target was still running ahead of him, her faint porthole illuminating the corridors.. Deltas feet crashed against tile, shattering the fragile creations in the wake of his charge. Sinclair shouted something to Delta every few seconds, but it all became muffled in the intensity of the situation.

The hall started to change, now posters of new inventions littered the walls, all announcing the creation of groundbreaking technology. Sinclair shouted again, but the radio was still unimportant to Delta, the only thing that mattered was this Big Sister. He roared again as he felt himself catching up to her. This time, he thought, I'll get my answers. He gave himself a boost as he saw the hall's end, and light. And…music?

The Big Sister leapt up as soon as the hall opened up into another, pitch black room. Deltas pace slowed as he felt cold air hit his armor. Music from a decade ago played, even now unwilling to surrender to the fraying ability of time. Sinclair appeared behind him, patting his shoulder and motioning to a screen hidden in the corner of the Halls ending. It too flickered to life and started to hum, an old image of the Rapturian logo along with Ryan's theme music. Suddenly the ancient leaders face came up.

"Good evening, my fellow Rapture citizens, allow me to personally welcome you to the grand opening of the Ryan Convention of 1960, "The man opening his palms as if to embrace the viewers of the screen, "As the first select few to view this, you will help us as a community of innovation create a better world for ourselves. With every step you take, you lead the rest of us into a possible future, and only your criteria and criticism can show us what you want from Rapture. So I thank you, but I am not alone, as Rapture herself thanks you all. So now, let the convention begin!"

The screen abruptly shut off as lights inside began to crack, then suddenly the room became flooded with brilliant light. Delta and Sinclair both raised their hands to block the oncoming light from blinding them. The light soon became more comfortable for the Alphas, and Sinclair decided to get a look.

"Dear god," He whispered to himself, "Where were these beauties hidden?"


	6. Chapter 6: Dark Carnival

The world is different, that much is decided. The ancient machine had a little trouble understanding the changes, but a clock simply kept track of time, and it adapted much like its creator intended. Slightly more then a decade must've passed since its last sign in. Quite unusual though for so much to happen in a small span of time.

The machine pumped a small amount of ADAM through its sensors, extracting old information stored in its genetic goop. Thousands of memories came flooding into the ancient hardware, all of which were quickly sorted and then promptly stored in numerous other ADAM containers for later use.

Its ancient wires were filled with a new energy, a new purpose. But as much as he tried, he just couldn't seem to reach Mr. Ryan. It must've sent a dozen notifications to his office, but for some reason Mr. Ryan wouldn't respond. Was Ryan upset at his performance in dealing with those two? That couldn't be it, as his power section was removed from the grid, completely cut off from the generators. How could he see those two if his own lights didn't turn on, let alone his security systems?

The machine banished the idea and decided to ignore that issue, instead focusing on the reconstruction of the older areas that had fallen into disrepair. How ironic that they chose the Thinker over him, considering that it was up to him now to fix Rapture. If it could've laughed, its hypothetical lungs would ache from generating the humorous noise.

Turning its attention back to the two rogue Big Daddies, it began to formulate plans, calculating each outcome faster than a human could ever dream of thinking, let alone carry on advanced thoughts. It would review its possible outcomes and compare the chance of success to that of failure, and with those two numbers it would then conclude which plans would produce the highest possible outcome that the machine found satisfactory.

More drops of ADAM flooded over the machine, sharing their experiences and memories with intricate detail, providing him with knowledge through actions that he himself could never do. One memory stood out above the rest. It seemed to be from a common engineer, watching Ryan speak with his upmost attention. Suddenly, his mainframe shifted its electrical impulses.

"So, my fellow Raputarians, I ask you once more, is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? Well, my friends, what is our answer to the parasite above?" Ryan raised his fist above the podium, his elegant suit outlined by the golden chain behind his head, which was from the wall by the enormous hands of industry. The crowd, including the memories of the engineer, all roared with their answer.

"A man chooses, a slave obeys!"

Delta raised his hand as the flood of light became ever brighter in his vision. His hand slightly rubbed against his helmet, creating a slight pitch from the damp leather on glass. Strangely enough, the light seemed to act as a repellent to any stray Splicers, who ran at the first sight of this ungodly brightness.

Sinclair whistled as the light started to fade from Deltas eyes, leaving behind faint sunspots in the upper regions of his retinas. The Alphas stood together in a moment silence as they gazed upon this once gorgeous sight that lay before them now, all of its ancient technology ripe for the taking. Sinclair was the first to take a step into the fading white, motioning for Delta to follow closely. Delta, taking the hint, nodded inside his helmet, moaned, and moved his feet.

The room was a stadium, with no solid walls visible; only the mobile cart walls provided any sense of structure within the cavern. The floor must've been a tile of some form, for it amplified the light that still reflected from the overhead lamps. The walls were slightly torn in places, but Delta quickly took note that the area was in better shape overall when compared to the whole of Rapture. The posters added a nice touch, despite their lettering being too muddled to ever reveal what they were once advertising.

Considering the size of Rapture, it was completely possible to see why such a large layout was necessary

The two started to walk past the simple stands, displaying new Plasmids for basic necessities such as advanced telekinesis, something which Alpha already owned, and new appliances like automated washers. Delta paused for a moment, considering the absurdity that these machines inclined; were people too lazy to wash their own clothes?

"Hey, kid, you holding up back there?" Rang out the familiar southern accent, the inflection in his voice showing concern.

Deltas mind moved back to his task, shaking away the rogue thoughts. His mind seemed to be drifting a lot lately, coinciding with his now delicate temper towards Splicers. Maybe an invention here will provide the tonic he needs, he assured himself. They might even have "Teleport to little sister" just for him. A smile (or at least he though it was) spread across his face underneath his helmet.

Their steps once again became the only sound on their miniature journey through this amusement park of innovation. They would stop for a moment every few minutes when something sounded around the corner, but they would calm back down then proceed forward, echoing their steps through the resounding marble walls.

Deltas gloves sparked every few steps, reminding him of the large neural static charge that remained on his fingertips. His suit, now dripping away the old blood from the last Splicers, still seemed to pale in comparison to Sinclair's Omega model, what with its gleamed metal shine and clean fabric. Sinclair turned around waving his drill towards the continuing corridor, lined by the posters and ads for Rapture's latest technology. Delta nodded as the newer Big Daddy turned back and quickened his pace.

"Ya' know kid, I never really thought of what the inside of one of these suits was like. A lot more cramped than I woulda thought, let me tell you." Sinclair's words had an underlying pity for Delta, finally understanding how life would've changed simply by donning such a profession. Deltas eyes looked at the back of Sinclair's helmet as it swayed back and forth with each step taken. Suddenly, Sinclair slowed and slightly inclined his head.

"Let me lay my hand on the table before we pass a point in this damn city, show all my cards if ya would; I'm sorry I used you in plasmid shows. Back then it was business, all money and papers." The former man stopped and turned his entire body to look into the viewport of his newest ally, and possibly one of his greatest friends, "If I had a choice to do it all over, you wouldn't be here. Hell, neither of us would be. And I'm even sorrier that it took me having to die like you for me to realize my wrongs. If this is my second chance, I'm helpin' ya get back to little Eleanor. It's the least I can do…"

Deltas was completely stopped by now. Underneath, he felt his eyes stare into Sinclair's helmet with unblinking focus. This entire time, he had been focused on Eleanor as his torch, his beacon that his life revolved around. But here, in front of him, was the man responsible for his entire misfortune. His fist clenched for a moment as his dark cloud grew within, stirring up emotions of blind rage and anger, and then he felt a calm wash over him, cleaning away any form of aggression he had.

If Sinclair had never sold him, then Eleanor would be with another Delta, another man. Sinclair's actions were not the cause of malice, but of some of the happiest memories he ever had and might ever have. Delta raised his hand and pointed to his visor's front. He then took a single pudgy finger and drew two dots and a long curved line on the foggy smudges that littered his viewport. Content with his mal-formed smiley face, he formed his glove into a thumb up for him.

Sinclair started to shake silently. His voice began to burst out in laughter and gasping breaths as his free hand grasped his side and slightly bent inward. Muffling his jitters, He stood back up and nodded. Delta felt a smile truly form in his suit, pleased with his ability to make his partner laugh. He would have to remember that for later, maybe use it on Eleanor. For a moment, his mind drifted away from the world they lived in, the underwater hell known as Rapture, and it went to a place with Delta and Eleanor together as father and daughter, as a real family.

His eyes began to lift away from the edge of his viewport towards the halls, where a lone sign gave Delta the push he needed.

"Heavy Duty Equipment of Tomorrow's World!" Exclaimed the large banner, waving diligently over a separated display room's door, its ancient cloth fraying at the edges.

Sinclair and Delta both turned towards the flapping, quickly drawn in by its large, elaborate wording. The Alphas stood in silence for yet another minute, pondering the dangers of entering the area. Delta's eyes turned back to Sinclair's drill, which glinted brightly in the harsh light above. He wondered what advancements had been planned for that simple piece of equipment in his time of being dead.

As if reading his mind, Sinclair hefted the Drill and began towards the sign, the flickering lights around them slowly dimming at a considerable rate. This small detail cause Sinclair to look above, and watched as some of the atriums lights far above began to flicker as well; one even shattered from the stress from awakening after its decade long sleep. He whistled forward, attracting the visor-hidden face of the one known as Delta.

His entire body only slightly shifted as Deltas eyes moved upwards, taking in the last bits of dying light from the overhead lights. He moaned, his voice carrying over the walls and through the many displays in the entirety of the Convention. The sound itself was felt throughout Deltas body, and with a newfound purpose, he began to pick up his pace towards the promising display, hoping that maybe, just maybe, behind that terribly old and musty wall, there lay one jewel that would reunite him with Eleanor.

The sign had not lied.

Inside the showroom were displays holding dozens, no, more than that, prototypes for industrial tools that would have been used to expand and further develop Rapture into a bigger metropolis. However, the time of disrepair and lack of care had cause deterioration within to overtake most of the wall's once proud paint. But Deltas helmet light didn't shine on the environment. Instead the beam moved to the center, where the floor seemed to decline to.

"Well, I'll be damned. Mr. Ryan, I could just about kiss ya' if you still drew breath."

In the center were dozens of tools designed for Raptures deep-sea expansion, ranging from heavy duty rivet guns all the way to some strange looking flame-thrower. The Big Daddies began to move down, pushing away the barriers. The floor where the tools sat was a raised wooden stage, completely distinguishable from the matted carpet around it. Some of the tools sat up on the stage, others had fallen from the years of micro-shake that plagued Rapture, but still it was an oasis to two lost souls searching for help.

Delta climbed up the stage quickly and started examining the tools. Each was designed for a specific purpose in mind, and it resulted in a large assortment of tools. All of which looked more than lethal in Deltas hands. The Big Daddy felt a smile grow across his face as he clamored through the various new toys. His fingers traced a few older machines whose parts were torn out and left to rust. Sad, but that's how life works.

Delta stopped and turned his head directly to the last item on the floor; an enormous gun-looking machine that resembled some kind of advanced rivet cannon sat, unloved and unused, in the far corner of the display.

_That'll do nicely_, the giant thought.

His hands gripped the handle with ease. It had obviously been designed with Big Daddies in mind, since the sheer size and weight would break a regular human. The mechanisms inside were as large as a grown mans fist, and randomly placed tubes and cables constantly wove in and out of the entire tools frame. Delta found a safety button and slid it to 'work' mode, feeling a tiny engine roar to life, accompanied by a yellow glow from the center turbine that hung right in front of the handle and trigger. He tested the weight a bit while Sinclair found his own new plaything.

"Now this," The southerner began, obviously impressed, "Is a true feat of engineering. See this tube here? That little violent glowin' means that this little guy runs on zero-point energy. It means that nothin' it powers ever needs recharging."

In Sinclair's hand sat a tube the size of their pointer fingers and pulsating with enigmatic purple light that appear from seemingly nowhere. He turned it over in his hand for a moment, and then slid it into a slot on the drill still equipped on his other hand, where it clicked into a slot. The drill sat motionless for a moment before it roared to life with a force so great Sinclair had to steady himself.

"Now that's a bucking bronco if I do say so!" He laughed thoroughly until it began to calm down.

Delta looked at some of the other tools, one of which was a drill. They could spend hours playing around with them, but they had a mission, and Delta was hell-bent on finishing it. He grabbed a few that looked useful, locking them into his back carriage for later use. He suddenly stopped, however, when he heard the crash from outside.

"I think that someone wants to get our attention. Should we keep them waiting?"

Delta started to moan in reply, but stopped when he heard the shrill scream from the lobby outside. His mindset changed, and the darkness within his conscious took control. He rushed outside and looked up to see the splicer hordes, growling at any who moved close. Sinclair rushed up behind and almost smiled to himself under his helmet.

This was going to be good.


End file.
